


Destination Anywhere

by epeeblade



Category: Dogma (1999), Supernatural
Genre: Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-09
Updated: 2007-06-09
Packaged: 2017-11-03 14:10:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/382176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epeeblade/pseuds/epeeblade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam gets a vision that takes him and Dean to Illinois. They don't stay there for long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Destination Anywhere

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to oncidium and lapillus for the beta. The title is taken from a Bon Jovi song. I tried to be true to both the SPN and Dogma universes.
> 
> Thanks for reading.

(Prologue)

The air is stale in Lucky Leo's Arcade; the shore tourist season won't start for another  
two months. The clear windows boast the arcade is 'open year round.' However, there is  
nothing like heat inside, and the March winds rattle the building. Sand blows up on the  
boardwalk, battering the closed gaming stands.

Inside the arcade the lights still flash, and the machines still squeal with music and  
explosions. A bored looking college student stands behind the counter filled with plastic  
toys and electronics that can be won with the right number of tickets.

There are no children now, just an old man in the back, plugging quarters into the rickety  
old skeeball machines. It's his favorite, you see. The wooden balls racket down the  
square shoot, lined up perfectly waiting for him to make his selection. Eight chances for  
the highest score possible.

He's on his fifth ball before the stranger comes up to him. The old man ignores him,  
rolling the ball which spins along the track, rocketing off the ramp and into the 150 point  
target.

"I've heard you did this, but I didn't believe it until now." The stranger's voice is raspy,  
as if he'd smoked too many cigarettes in his lifetime. "I assume you're taking better  
precautions these days."

The old man still doesn't speak. He moves to the sixth ball. The stranger continues to  
watch. "Typical. Your silence is what's going to doom this world. I've got your little  
princess all picked out. She's going to be mine, just like the others."

The old man spins two more balls in quick succession, and if his throws are harder and  
less accurate, the stranger doesn't comment. "You don't think I can do it. You're pretty  
sure your little chosen ones are going to stop me. But you're wrong. They may have  
bought you some time seven years ago, but I will win this time."

The last ball has been thrown and the machine beeps, sending out a stream of cardboard  
tickets from the front slot. The old man bends and rips his winnings off. He turns to the  
stranger and says, "I'm sorry, were you talking to me?"

The stranger's eyes flash yellow, liquid spilling across his dark pupils.

***

"She's just a little girl," a female voice said. "She's just a little girl!"

And in less than a moment Sam sees a flash of yellow eyes, the darkness of night, a car  
racing past. There is a house with all the lights on, and a woman standing in the doorway.  
She's crying.

The vision skips a beat, and he sees the girl, jumping rope on the sidewalk. She turns and  
screams as hands grasp her and pull her into the darkness.

When he came to, his head aches and his brother is at his side.

"Dean," he said, "I think we have to go to Illinois."

They've had less to go on. This time Sam got lucky, he managed to see both a street sign  
and an Illinois license plate in his vision. Sam managed to grab the name of the town and  
it's enough information that Dean finally agreed to set off driving to McHenry, Illinois.

He slept off the migraine in the car, head pressed against the glass of the passenger side  
window. He doesn't wake until the motion of the car stops, startling him out of his doze.  
Dean's outside, gassing up the car.

Sam got out of the car, and stretched his legs a bit before leaning against the side. He  
figures he must have lines across his face again, and rubbed at his cheek.

"Do we know how we're going to play this?" Dean's come around the side of the car, and  
hands Sam a cup of coffee.

"We find the house first, that's where they live."

"This chick the demon's going to kidnap?"

Sam took a sip of the coffee and nearly gagged. It's way too bitter. "I think so. I mean,  
it's not clear. Something takes her. And since my visions mostly deal with the demon…"

"These visions don't tend to end well." Dean snapped

"You think I don't know that? But we have to check it out, Dean. She's just a little  
girl…" he realized he's echoing the vision and snapped his mouth closed.

Dean's gone over to the driver's side. "Well come on then, Sammy, don't want to be  
late…"

They have to drive through McHenry twice until they find the street sign Sam saw in his  
vision. It takes them another fifteen minutes to find the house. Dean parked across the  
street from it and turned off the car. Just when he's about to ask Sam the plan it happens  
again…

Pain flares behind his eyes and Sam is somewhere else.

It's a church, old, filled with people. Children are laughing, milling around the front  
dressed in startling white suits and dresses. He sees her, the girl, with the woman, their  
hands linked as they walk through the doors of the church.

That's when the screaming starts.

"Sam! God damn it, Sammy…"

This time he's sure he's out of it longer than before. "It's the girl again. I think he wants  
to kill her."

"We need more information than that, Sam. What are we going to do? Ring the bell, ask  
politely if little Mary Sue can come play so we can protect her from some demon son of a  
bitch who's trying to kill her?"

"We could…" Sam paused, the idea suddenly coming to him, "we could kidnap her."

"What?"

"Get her away from here, away from the house, the church, any place he could think to  
look for her. Protect her."

Dean smacked him on the back of his head. "Your brain get more fried than usual? What  
the fuck are you thinking?"

"We can't let him kill a child, Dean."

"Ok, ok, chill. Let's figure it out. What do we know?"

Sam shook his head. "It doesn't fit any of the patterns. The girl is six or seven years old,  
not six months. The mother is apparently alive and well. I haven't seen any of the signs  
Dad told us to watch out for, no electrical storms or cattle mutilation."

"Ok, here's what we're going to do." Dean reached for the door handle. "I'm going out  
there to get their name from the mailbox – you're sure this is the house?" Sam nodded.  
"Then you do what you do best, geekboy, find information."

***

It's surprisingly easy to find information about Bethany Sloane, Sam discovered  
searching through the local newspaper archive at the local library. Turned out she worked  
at an abortion clinic until up about seven years ago, right when her daughter was born. He  
found the birth announcement too, Christy Serendipity Sloane. There were more articles  
with Bethany's name in them, apparently she volunteered in the community, got herself a  
bit of a reputation for that.

Dean had scoped out the neighborhood, chatted up some of the neighbors. Bethany and  
her daughter were well liked. Christy was a happy kid, apparently. Made friends real  
easily.

They were parked across the street from the house again when a car pulled up into the  
driveway of the house. A woman and girl got out, the girl pulling a backpack from the  
trunk.

"Those the gals from your vision?" Dean asked.

Sam swallowed. "Yeah."

"Ok…reporters or FBI?"

"Dean, that's not going to work. We can't ask questions about something that hasn't  
happened yet."

"Gas leak?"

"I don't know when it's going to happen, I've seen two different places. I think…maybe  
we've already changed it from happening the way it was supposed to the first time, just  
by being here."

"Ok, ok, fine. So, stakeout?"

Sam rubbed his eyes. "At least until we get more info."

***

"Uh, Sam, Sam, wake up…" Dean hissed, jabbing an elbow in his ribs.

The sun had gone down and they were no closer to figuring out what they were going to  
do. Sam must have fallen asleep – the headaches tended to take a lot out of him. He woke  
at Dean's jab and opened his mouth to ask what was going on when he saw her storming  
across the street to pound on the window of the Impala.

"I don't know who you fuckers think you are, but I don't work at that fucking clinic  
anymore, so you can get your fucking activist asses out of my neighborhood!"

Sam winced. "We're not, uh, activists." He shouted through the window.

"They why the hell are you watching my house? And asking my neighbors about me?"  
She held out the cordless phone she had carried out of her house. "Make it quick, I have  
the cops on speed dial…"

Dean rolled down the window halfway. "Actually, we are the cops, we're here to…"

Sam leaned forward. "Your daughter is in danger. We just want to help."

"In danger from what?" Bethany demanded.

Before either of them could answer, a clear voice called from the house, "Mommy!"

Bethany turned, "Go back inside, sweetheart, mommy's got this."

Christy ignored her mother and ran across the street. She looked long and hard at Sam,  
her dark eyes intense in the twilight. "What's wrong?"

He couldn't lie to her, felt like the world would end if he lied to her. "The demon wants  
to kill you."

"Sam?" Dean whirled around, his eyes widening in shock. Sam knew what he was  
thinking, normally Sam was immune to anyone using their psychic abilities on him. Well,  
this was a nice change of pace.

"Of course," Bethany appeared to be talking to herself, "I shouldn't have expected  
anything else. I forgot about her sense of humor…so what are you guys? Prophets?  
Forgotten apostles? Let me guess, elves? I haven't met any of those yet."

"Wait, you believe us?" Dean asked.

She put one hand on her daughter's shoulder. "I sort of have to. Nobody can lie to  
Christy. She'll see through it anyway."

"She's a psychic?" Sam asked. He was always eager for more information about people  
like himself.

"Not exactly." Bethany cocked her head to one side.

"We want to help you. Honestly," Sam looked directly at Christy as he said it. "We want  
to save you."

Bethany sighed. "I guess you guys had better come on in."

***

 

Bethany served them coffee. After about five minutes listening to Sam and Dean speak,  
she wished she had spiked her own cup with something a bit stronger. She was glad she  
had sent Christy up to her room while they talked. The kid so did not need to be hearing  
this.

Christ, she thought she was done with demons and all that bullshit.

They looked like such normal guys too. A bit younger than herself, and much better  
looking than she'd seen in a while. Hard to believe they were demon hunters, or ghost  
busters, or whatever they called themselves.

"So this demon," she began, aware they were giving an abridged version, and right now  
she didn't think she wanted to know the intricate details. "You have no idea what he  
wants with my daughter?"

"We're hoping you can shed some light on that. You didn't seem to be surprised when I  
mentioned it in the car." Sam's eyes went soft.

Bethany frowned. "It's not the first time I've had to deal with something like this…"  
How to put this exactly? Might as well go for the gusto. "About 7 years ago, I helped  
save the world. Couple of fallen angels would have gotten back into heaven against  
God's wishes due to a loophole in Catholic dogma called plenary indulgence. If that had  
happened, we would have all blinked out of existence." she could tell she was losing  
them. "Turns out it was all a plot by this demon who wanted to end everything, he was  
sick of living in hell. We killed him, but were too late to stop the angels from going  
forward with his fucked up plan."

"We?" Dean asked.

"Couple of prophets, the thirteenth apostle and a muse," Bethany said with a smile.

Dean turned to his brother, "Is this how we sound to other people?"

"So how did you stop them?" Sam ignored him.

"I didn't. God did. She fixed everything once I got her off life-support…."

Sam was rubbing at his forehead again. Dean looked at her. "God's a woman? Course she  
is…"

"No jokes," she smacked his hand. "Trust me, it was just as weird as it sounds. Try  
hearing that you're the last living relative of Jesus Christ and see what that does to you."

"You're the…" Sam started.

"Like the DaVinci code?" Dean asked. Sam muttered something under his breath about  
not taking him to the movies ever again.

"Exactly. Only nothing like that. And I'm not the last anymore, there's Christy." She  
looked up the stairs, making sure her daughter wasn't sitting on the landing and listening  
in. Christy wasn't exactly ignorant of her own origins, but there were still some things  
she wanted to keep to herself. Christy deserved to have a childhood. "She's my miracle  
baby."

"What other powers does she have?"

"She doesn't have powers," Bethany snapped. "She's just a little girl." Sam's face had  
gone white. "People can't lie to her, but I think that's because…well, she's touched by  
God. She can't hide that." She couldn't tell them more than that. That was her secret to  
guard, no matter how helpful they wanted to be.

"Touched by god," Dean repeated, "Really doesn't sound like the Demon's MO."

"Bethany, in my vision I saw a church and Christy in a white dress. Does that mean  
anything to you?" Sam asked.

She nodded. "Christy is making her First Communion on Sunday."

Sam sat back, a frown on his face. "First Communion? That's a right of passage, isn't it?  
Like baptism for an infant…"

"No way," Dean muttered.

"We have to keep her from that church. That's where he'll try to take her."

"But it's a church, for God's sake, shouldn't that be the safest place for her?"

They both were shaking their heads. "These guys don't have a problem with killing on  
holy ground. We…we lost a friend like that."

She stood and began pacing. "I can't keep her from making her Communion. We're  
going to have a huge party here afterwards, my family, her friends…I'd have to tell  
everyone not to come…"

"No," Dean stood. "You can't tell anyone. The Demon will know you know."

"And any one of the people you call could be possessed," Sam added.

"So, what do we do now?"

Dean picked up the duffle bag he had brought in with them. "We do our best to prevent  
them from coming in."

***

Well, Dean thought, stepping into Christy's bedroom, purple was a step up over pink.  
Christy was no tomboy, if the shelves of dolls and ruffled bedspread were any indication.  
She also seemed to have a disturbing number of stuffed unicorns tucked in odd places,  
two on her bed, one sitting up on her window seat, and two plastics ones on their side on  
her desk.

She sat curled up on the plush looking bed, a doll tucked between her arm and body,  
while the other hand kept her place on a large colorful looking book. "Hi." She sat up  
when he entered.

"Uh, hi." He flashed a grin. "I'm just going to put some stuff on your window, ok?"

She smiled back. She really did look a lot like Bethany, her mother's features on a  
smaller, chubbier frame. If she made it through this, Dean thought, Bethany was going to  
have to beat the boys off with a stick. "What kind of stuff?"

"Rock salt." He showed her the bag from his duffle. They ended up buying the stuff in  
bulk, since they used so much of it. "It'll keep the monsters out."

"There's no such thing as monsters." She set her hands under her chin, regarding him  
thoughtfully.

He moved over to the window, pulling the curtains away from the sill so he could work.  
"I hate to tell you this, kid, but there are definitely monsters out there. But you're not  
going to have to worry about them with me and Sam here." Dean poured the salt in a  
perfect, unbroken line. "Demons can't cross salt lines, so we're going to make sure  
nothing can get in this room."

"You don't have to talk to me like a little kid, you know."

He turned and raised an eyebrow. "I don't?"

"Nope. Mrs. Rickard says I read at an 8th grade level."

Of course, that made perfect sense. Dean leaned over to see what the kid was reading and  
was surprised that the brightly colored pictures were illustrating medieval tapestries  
instead of puppies and kittens, or whatever the hell little girls liked to read. Of course, he  
look a second look, those medieval tapestries were of unicorns.

"I guess you like unicorns."

She smirked. "They were a medieval symbol for Christ."

God, she sounded a lot like Sammy when he was a kid.

"They did that a lot, hid things in pictures." She turned the page. "Like even the color of  
a flower could mean something."

"You wouldn't happen to speak Latin too, would ya?"

A tap at the door caused him to look up.

"Am I interrupting story time?" Sam asked with a smirk.

"Shut up." Dean pushed himself up from where he was crouching. "I salted the windows.  
You carving the symbols?"

Sam nodded. Good.

***

Bethany didn't know what good salt was going to do them, or the protective symbols  
Sam had carved into the doors and windows. She let them do it anyway, once again swept  
into something she had little understanding of. She offered them her couch for the night –  
it folded out into a double.

Christy was in her room playing with her dolls when Bethany went upstairs to tuck her  
in. She wasn't quite sure what to tell her. "Time for bed, hon."

Christy looked up, "Are Sam and Dean staying?"

Bethany sat on the bed and patted the space next to her. Christy curled up beside her.  
"Yeah, Chris, for tonight."

"I like them, they feel nice."

Bethany frowned. Please don't let this be anything, she prayed, let her be a little girl.  
"Get some sleep now, hon, we'll talk more about it in the morning."

How did you tell your seven year old that not only did demons exist, but they were out to  
kill her? And barring that, how to tell her she was part divine?

Before she went to bed, Bethany knelt to pray, like she did every night. "You know," she  
whispered, "now would be a really good time to give me a clue. She's never been in  
danger before. She's your child…" Bethany trailed off. "Please help us…"

She was half asleep when she realized what it was she had to do.

***

"Get up, boys. We're going to Jersey."

Sam was pretty sure Dean had his hand on his knife, so it was a good thing he woke up  
first. Bethany was standing at the food of the sofa bed, fully dressed and with a gleam in  
her eye. "Christy's almost ready. I think she's packing her dolls. I'm not a big fan of  
Barbie, but well, she likes them…"

"Wait a minute," Dean was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "Jersey? As in New? That's  
like 14 hours away."

"There's coffee in the kitchen." She spun on her heel and turned back.

Sam pulled on his jeans and slid out of the bed to follow her. He took the cup she had  
poured, taking a long swallow before asking. "Why there?"

"Because that's where everything happened the first time…seven years ago." Bethany  
was pouring a second cup, presumably for Dean. "The church that had the plenary  
indulgence, where God likes to play skeeball, where Christy was conceived…"

Sam stopped in mid-sip. He sniffed at the coffee, trying to determine if it had been  
spiked. "Did you say…where God likes to play skeeball?"

"She takes human form once a month to play. Gives her points to the local kids."

"Dude," Dean had entered the kitchen. "This is weird even for us."

***

"What do you think? Is she nuts or does she have a really close relationship with God?"  
Dean had taken advantage of the free shower and coffee and now looked almost human.

Sam was still trying to turn his mind around it. "Maybe it's not God, God. We've  
encountered demi-gods before. Maybe this is some benevolent spirit who's convinced  
Bethany that she is who she is."

"And why would the Demon be after Christy then?"

"Because she's one of the psychics," Sam answered without a beat. "He missed his  
chance when she was an infant, now he's going for her after the next rite of passage.  
Dean, this gives us a whole new pattern to search for…"

"Didn't you say he's trying to kill her?" Dean interrupted.

Sam paused. "I'm not sure. I see darkness and blood, but not who's dead."

Dean patted his shoulder awkwardly. "Yeah, well any more visions, let me know."

Bethany burst back into the kitchen, brandishing two large bottles of Air Freshener.  
"Found them."

"Uh, what?"

"They sent a shit-demon after me before. I'm going to be prepared this time."

"You know, you're entirely too happy about this," Dean said.

She slammed the bottles down on the table. "I'm not happy that my daughter's in danger.  
I'm sure as hell not happy that the forces of darkness are after us both. I'm just glad that I  
know what to do now."

"And taking a road trip to Jersey is the best you can come up with?"

"It's better than what we had last night, which was, oh that's right, absolutely nothing."

"Look," Sam stepped forward, trying to mediate. Dean always got uncomfortable when  
the G word was mentioned, and especially so if it meant the Demon was involved. That  
bastard had screwed up their lives, took their dad and who knew what it meant for Sam.

Before he could speak any further, the doorbell rang. They all froze.

"Wait here," Bethany told them, "I'll get it."

Dean peered at the bottles of air freshener. "Hmm," he murmured.

***

Bethany left them in the kitchen, a bit apprehensive. Who would be ringing her doorbell  
this early on a Saturday morning? Christy had appeared at the top of the steps with her  
backpack. "Just wait up there, hon!" she called, looking through the peephole.

It was only her friend Liz. Bethany let out a breath she wasn't aware she was holding and  
opened the door. "Liz, what are you doing here?"

Liz stepped inside. "Just came around to see if you needed any help before the party."

"Aunt Liz!" Christy shouted, bounding down the steps towards them. She stopped just a  
few feet away from Liz, her face suddenly going white.

Bethany frowned. "Christy? What's wrong?" Out of the corner of her eye she saw Liz  
flinch when she said Christy's name. What the…

"Hey kid, don't you want to say hi to your aunt Liz?" Liz had her hand out, but Christy  
kept backing away.

"Mommy, something's wrong …" Christy whispered, tears running down her face.

"Christy, get into the kitchen," Bethany stood between her child and her friend. "Liz,  
what the hell is …" before she could finish, she found herself flying through the air and  
slammed against the wall. "Liz…"

Liz's eyes had gone completely black. "Liz isn't home right now."

So this is what they meant by possession. "Leave her alone!"

"You don't even know what you have, scion. Come along, little girl, unless you want to  
watch your mommy die…" the thing inside Liz had turned towards Christy, her hand  
held out. Christy kept backing up towards the kitchen.

"I don't think so," Dean shouted, coming through the door with Sam at his side. He  
raised his hand and sprayed the air freshener at Liz.

To her shock smoke started coming from Liz where the liquid hit her. She coughed and  
screamed as she fell to the ground.

Sam had picked up Christy and grabbed Bethany by the hand. "Let's go now!"

They ran out the front door, Dean pulling up the rear, still brandishing the large bottle of  
air freshener. Bethany followed Sam to their car, sliding into the backseat with Christy.  
Dean tossed his duffel in with them, then jumped into the driver seat, started the car and  
took off.

Bethany rocked Christy in her arms. "What the hell was that?"

"She was possessed," Sam told her. "by one of the demons. That must be how they  
snatched her in my first vision…"

"And air freshener is demon RAID?" Bethany spit out.

"I spiked it with Holy Water," Dean said proudly from the drivers' seat.

"Oh, dear lord." Bethany closed her eyes.

"Mommy," Christy's small voice broke into the conversation. "What's going on?"

***

Sam listened as Bethany told Christy that she wouldn't let anything happen to her. He  
pursed his lips. It was a promise he wanted to keep, but wasn't sure they'd be able to. He  
looked over to where Dean was gripping the steering wheel. He opened his mouth to  
speak, but ended up crying out again as another vision pulled him down instead…

It was too late. They were pulling her away, there were too many, dark hands like claws  
in the night, dragging Christy through the dirt. She screamed as they pulled her past  
Dean, lying motionless on the ground. Sam was running, but he knew he wouldn't reach  
them in time. The woods were closing in on them.

"Sam? Sam!" Dean was shouting.

"Don't pull over, keep driving…" Sam ground out. "I'm ok."

Bethany leaned her head on the seat. "What was that?"

"Vision," he explained.

"Anything helpful?" Dean looked over.

Sam saw his brother lying in the dirt, blood seeping from the side of his mouth, head  
hanging at an unnatural angle. "No. We were in the woods, somewhere. They were trying  
to take her…"

"They?"

"Demons."

"As in more than one?" Dean asked.

"Too many to count."

"Shit."

"Language," Bethany said, holding her hands over Christy's ears.

Sam looked over at her. Bethany held Christy to herself, stroking her daughter's hair  
gently. Her eyes were unfocused, as if she was deep in thought. "What aren't you telling  
us?"

"What?" Bethany turned around, her face flushing.

"What I saw…there's never been multiple demons going after a child like that. The only  
time…well, when our dad pissed off the yellow eyed demon." Sam said, trying to work it  
out in his mind.

"Christy, hon, why don't you listen to your ipod for a little bit, we have a long drive."  
Bethany zipped open Christy's backpack and handed her the ipod. She waited until  
Christy had her ears plugged with the earbuds and the music was loud enough for Sam to  
hear. Then she leaned back over the seat.

"You won't believe me, you haven't believed half the shit I've told you so far," she  
whispered.

"Try us," Dean suggested. "The Febreeze thing worked out ok."

She bit her lip, then finally met Sam's eyes. "Back in '99 when I went to Jersey – I  
couldn't have kids. Infection in my uterus. She…God that is, she healed me, and gave me  
Christy."

"She enabled you to get pregnant?" Sam asked, confused.

"I'm saying Christy is God's child," Bethany hissed, looking back to make sure her  
daughter wasn't listening. "Like the immaculate conception only without the virgin part."

Dean laughed. Sam jabbed him with his elbow. "Dean!"

"C'mon Sammy, do you honestly believe we have the second coming of Christ in the  
back seat of the Impala?"

"It's important that she believes it. And, besides…"

"Right the demi-god theory." Sam could hear Dean rolling his eyes. "Look, you know  
me, I only believe what I can see. The only thing I know is that those demons are after  
your little girl, just like all the other psychics we've met."

"Still doesn't explain why, Dean."

"I'm still working on that." Dean paused. "Wait, so you find out you're having God's  
baby and you name her Christy?"

"God has one hell of a sense of humor, you know."

***

Dean eyes flickered to the rear view mirror. The get away had been just a bit too clean.  
He needed to stop for gas soon, they were running low, but he sure as hell needed to  
make sure they weren't being followed before he stopped. They were making good time,  
he figured he'd have them to this church in Jersey at least two hours before someone  
following the speed limit would have them.

Not that he knew what the hell that was going to do for them. It was distance from  
Illinois, true, but they were backing themselves against the wall, driving to the coast like  
this.

"Dean?" Christy had leaned over the seat and tapped him gently on the shoulder. "I gotta  
use the bathroom. And I'm hungry."

He risked a glance back there; Bethany was dozing against the backseat. Sam looked up  
from paging through Dad's journal. "Ok, kid. Let me just find a good place to stop. Hold  
on."

Blue signs along the highway indicated food and gas at the next exit, so Dean took it. The  
facilities were a mile or two off the main drag in a small town. It was just like hundreds  
of places he'd seen across the country before. He pulled into the gas station and turned  
around.

Bethany was coming awake. She shook her head and looked around. "Where…?"

"Pit stop. We make this fast. Gas up, pee and get out. Sam and I will grab some food at  
the store. Don't poke the Amish."

"Just wait in the car for us when you get back," Sam was giving them his puppy-eyed  
expression. Dean wondered why he bothered.

It started out just fine, he set the car to pumping, then went to take a leak himself. In the  
bathroom he asked Sam if he had found anything in the Journal.

"Nothing like this."

Of course not, that would have been too damn easy to have found wedged between  
"wendigo" and "woman in white" something about "crazy lady who thinks her daughter  
is the second coming of Christ."

Sammy was always weird with the faith stuff. Dean couldn't figure out why he wasn't  
buying it this time. Maybe he had hoped too many times. That kinda thing got you killed.

The store was tiny, but it had the necessities, chips, snack cakes and bottled water.  
Couldn't get dehydrated on the road. Dean allowed Sam to sneak some travel boxes of  
cereal in his pile, they really did need something for the kid to eat.

They moved up to the counter, waiting patiently for an old woman to finish counting her  
change. When she was finally done, Dean slid his choices onto the counter.

"Lovely day, isn't?" The clerk flashed them a toothy grin.

"Oh it's just sunshine and rainbows."

"You seem to be awfully hungry," the clerk continued, putting the snacks into a plastic  
bag after scanning each one.

"Long drive." Sam said. Dean wondered if he thought the guy sounded like a demented  
Mr. Rogers too.

"That'll be twenty-seven fifty."

Dean handed him twenty-eight. "Just keep the change."

Sam grabbed the bags and turned to go.

"You know, you could just let him have her." The clerk's voice went from happy go  
lucky, to creepy and murderous.

Sam whirled and Dean tucked his hand in his jacket for the holy water. "What?"

"Let him have the little girl. I'm sure he'd be more than happy to make a deal for you."  
The clerk grinned again, his eyes going all black. "Aren't you Winchesters fond of  
deals?"

"You son of a bitch!" Dean cried.

"Don't shoot the messenger. I'm just here to tell you that if you leave the little bitch  
behind, he's willing to work something out. Maybe leave you two out of the final  
shebang, eh?"

Dean's stomach turned over. He must want her bad to be willing to make that kind of  
deal. And why the hell was the yellow eyed bastard even trying to contact them? Had to  
be a trap.

"Get back to the car, Sammy, make sure they're ok."

"Dean."

"Go!" He turned back to the demon, holy water out now. "You tell your boss we don't  
make deals."

"How disappointing. I thought you were more like your father than that." And then the  
clerk's mouth stretched wide, wider than a person's mouth should be able to stretch,  
expelling clouds of black smoke into the store.

Dean turned and ran back to the car. Who knew what would be following them next?

***

"Freakin' Garden state with it's stupid freakin' toll booths!"

Sam bit his cheek to keep from laughing. Dean was desperately trying not to curse in  
front of Christy and it showed. "I told you to get on route 9."

"Which would have taken forever. We need to make time, Sammy."

"Whatever," Sam rolled his eyes as Dean inched forward in the "Exact Change" line. He  
saw his brother looking over to the express ez-pass lanes. "Don't even think about it, the  
last thing we need is for you to be picked up for evading tolls of all things."

"Here," Bethany handed Sam the change she had cobbled out of the bottom of Christy's  
bag. "We're hiding from the police?"

"Any one of them could be possessed," Dean explained.

Sam coughed. He guessed she hadn't seen their faces on the 6 o'clock news a few months  
back. Better she not know.

It was also better that she didn't know about the demon at the rest stop. Sam still didn't  
know what they were going to do. Bethany was sure they needed to get to some church in  
Red Bank – the last place she had seen God. She finally told them that knowledge had  
come in a dream, but Sam really was the last person who should be knocking that kind of  
information.

"It's getting late," Dean interrupted his thoughts. "We should think about finding a place  
to camp out for the night."

"We're not going straight to the church?" Bethany asked, straightening in her seat.  
Christy had her dolls out and was currently having a Barbie walk along the seams of the  
backseat upholstery. She was humming under her breath.

"We need a place to make a stand. I don't feel like shooting up a church in the middle of  
the night. A motel is a much better place for a shootout."

"You think they're coming tonight?" Sam asked. "Dean?"

Dean shrugged, easing the Impala between the slim concrete barriers of the tollbooth.  
"Give me the goddamn 35 cents…"

***

Bethany watched Sam pour salt along the floor under the doorway. It was easier than  
watching Dean clean and load his guns. For the first time she wondered exactly who she  
had gotten mixed up with. They were nothing like her previous companions. Perhaps she  
had put too much trust in Christy's sixth sense.

Then she remembered Liz's eyes going dark and how she had managed to toss Bethany  
across the room without lifting a finger. Bethany eyed the guns with new appreciation.

"We sleep in shifts." Dean tossed Sam a sawed off shotgun. Sam opened the gun and  
checked the ammunition. "You take the first one, wake me up around 3."

"What about me?" Bethany curled up on one of the motel room's two double beds,  
Christy already asleep at her side. It had been a long day for her. Bethany still didn't  
know what Christy thought of all this. She had told her daughter some bad men were  
after her, but she was hard pressed to explain what had happened to her Aunt Liz.

It had been Dean who had sat down and explained demonic possession to her seven year  
old.

"Our dad always told us to know the enemy," he told her. "It's information that will keep  
her safe."

She wondered if he had children, he seemed to be more comfortable with a child than his  
brother.

Right now he stooped by her bed, smoothing the covers around Christy. "You get as  
much rest as you can, it's going to be a long night."

"How am I supposed to sleep? They could be out there, waiting for us."

"They can't cross the salt," Sam said reasonably, peaking around the flimsy curtain of the  
front window. "And, this isn't the place from my vision. I don't think they're ready to hit  
us with all they've got yet."

"Well, that's reassuring." Dean dropped onto the second bed. "Hit the light, Sammy.  
Wake me up in 5 hours."

"I know, Dean."

Bethany lay back against the pillow, her head sinking nearly to the cardboard hard  
mattress. They had found this run down place just outside of Red Bank, a little truck stop  
motel off a two-bit excuse for a highway. Dean had gotten the room, had parked the  
Impala sideways in front of the door – an extra shield if they needed it. Inside they found  
cheap wallpaper, old stained carpet, and two beds that looked very welcome at that time  
of night.

Why was Dean so sure the demons were out there? He had gotten increasingly agitated  
after they had left that rest stop in Pennsylvania. Something must have happened.

All she could hear were Dean's soft snores in the dark room. Bethany closed her eyes and  
tried to sleep, but still strained to listen. Was that the plumbing dripping, or were those  
footsteps?

It was so dark, they could be anywhere, could be in this room with her, monsters lying in  
wait under the bed. She gulped in deep breaths of air, leaning over to cover Christy with  
her body. Let them come, let them try to take her daughter. She'd show them what a  
scion was capable of, damn it.

"Still being overly dramatic I see."

She sat up quickly, the light almost blinding. But she wasn't in bed, and this wasn't the  
hotel. Mariachi music played, as three men in Mexican hats approached her and started to  
play. She looked around the restaurant, eyes settling on a welcome face in the crowd.

"Metatron." She grinned, moving to sit beside him. "I've been waiting for you to show  
up."

"Oh? So confident are we?"

She poked him. "How else was God going to get in touch with me?"

He signaled the waiter over and asked her "Tequila?"

"No, I'm good." She sat back and took in his features, the worn, but handsome face, the  
perpetual scowl he wore like a badge. "What am I supposed to do?"

He took a shot, swirled it and then spat it out before answering. "You're doing it."

"Hiding out in a dingy motel room?" Bethany raised an eyebrow.

"You know better than that."

"Something told me to come back here, where it all started. I just…I just need to know  
I'm doing the right thing. If anything happened to Christy I'd…" she trailed off, not  
wanting to finish.

"You have your protectors, Bethany. But they aren't your only friends in this. Listen to  
the prophets, they'll show you the way."

"What?" Bethany asked, and realized she was sitting up in the motel room. Metatron, the  
restaurant, both were gone.

 

***

Dean's eyes flickered to the rear view mirror every so often, watching Bethany as she  
stared out the window, one arm thrown around her daughter.

Around five am that morning, Bethany had slipped out of bed and stood by his side as he  
kept watch over the parking lot. The sun slowly crept across the sky, illuminating the cars  
in the lot, the forest green dumpster, and the weeds waving in the early morning breeze.  
Nothing the remotely resembled a demon had showed.

"Thank you," Bethany said softly, fisting her hands in her pockets. Dean spared her a  
glance.

"It's what we do." He flickered his gaze back out there. "You seem all right for someone  
who's completely insane."

Bethany let out a laugh and he smiled in triumph. "I try." She touched his shoulder then,  
briefly. "Please keep her safe."

He wasn't sure if she was still talking to him at that point. So he just nodded.

They were all a bit more subdued this morning. Christy hadn't even taken her dolls out of  
her backpack. Dean's eyes felt strained and gummy. He had spent a long night watching  
shadows in the parking lot. None had come very close.

They hadn't even stopped for coffee, intent on hitting the road and finding this church.  
Traffic was non-existent, but the lights on this route seemed determined to keep them  
from their destination.

"Do you think stop lights can be possessed?" he asked Sam.

"Wait, pull over there!" Bethany shouted.

Dean swerved. "What the f…"

"That store over there…Quick Stop…"

Well, he was pretty desperate for coffee. The place looked rundown, there were no other  
cars in front of it. Two guys stood against the wall in the parking lot, which seemed  
strange for so early on a Sunday morning.

"I don't believe it." Bethany said. She turned to Christy, "Put your headphones on. Jay  
has a bit of a potty mouth."

Dean and Sam both turned to look at her. "What?"

"I know these guys." She slipped out of the car and towards the strangers, tugging  
Christy behind her.

"Sam…"

"I'll get the holy water air freshener."

"Good boy."

They followed Bethany.

"Shit, Silent Bob, fucking yuppies are invading. Not that we have any problem with that.  
We treat all our customers the same…." The thin one started off.

Bethany ignored him and moved to hug his trench coat covered companion. He in turn  
grinned and hugged her back.

"Fuck, lunchbox. Chicks do dig the silent type."

"It's good to see you, Bob." She pulled back. "And you too Jay…"

"Who the fuck…"

The heavier of the two nudged his friend. He made little flying motions with his hand.

"Oh! It's you. Am I finally going to get laid this time?" His companion slugged him in  
the arm.

"Subtle," Dean murmured to Sam.

"You should take notes," Sam shot back.

"I think the pot's fried your brain," Bethany continued to smile at them.

"Shit, no, we don't use no more. Don't need that fucking parole officer on our backs  
again. We just deal. You interested?"

The quieter of the pair calmly lit a cigarette and offered one to Bethany. "No thanks," she  
told them both. "I wanted…" She shook her head. "This is my daughter, Christy, and not  
one word, Jay…"

"Oh, I think he probably has several." Dean couldn't help adding.

"Those the dudes you're fucking?" Jay asked, "We could probably take them. Yeah, me  
and silent Bob are masters of kung fu hustling, we'll fuck your shit up…"

"Just stop it… I'm not fucking anyone!"

"You some kinda nun now? After all the freaky shit that happened last time? Man, Jersey  
gets all the freaky chicks, least you ain't shutting yourself up on a convent like that one  
bitch…"

At this point, Dean realized the person he should be paying attention to was Bob, who  
had bent down and handed Christy a lollypop. Hmm, they should probably check that  
before she ate it.

"C'mon, Sam, let's get some coffee, I think Bethany can handle things out here."

***

Sam and Dean emerged from the Quick Stop with four paper cups and a newspaper  
tucked under Sam's arm. Bethany took the coffee gratefully and eyed the fourth cup.

"Hot chocolate," Dean explained, handing it to Christy before ruffling her hair gently.

"Thanks," Bethany said. She was disappointed that Jay and Bob hadn't been of any help.  
Though it was good to see Bob again. Everything was bringing her closer to the church,  
where it had all began. As she sipped her coffee she watched as Dean opened the door for  
Christy.

What if God wanted Christy back? The Lord giveth and taketh, and she'd been on the  
receiving end of that truth too many times. Maybe this was the worst possible thing she  
could be doing.

"Ready to go?" Sam asked.

She realized she was standing and just staring at the car. Bethany shook herself. "Right."

St. Michael's church looked naked without the "Catholicism wow!" banners that had  
draped across its front seven years ago. Other than that, and the lack of general carnage in  
the streets, the church looked exactly the same. She blew out a breath, nothing had  
changed here. The most incredible experience of her life and the world just kept rolling.

"Are we going to mass, mom?" Christy asked. She had taken the cup of hot chocolate out  
of the car with her. "I shouldn't have had anything to drink."

"God will forgive you," Bethany said with a smile. "Remember that talk we had?"

Christy rolled her eyes, "Yes mom." She made her way up the stairs of the church.

Dean came up on her right side, Sam on her left and together they entered the church.

Mass had already started and the place was packed, which was surprising. Most churches  
were losing parishioners, not gaining them. Huh, Bethany thought, maybe the events here  
changed the community somehow. She smiled as they slid into the very last row, Christy  
on her right next to the aisle. Christy always wanted to see what was going on.

The organ was loud enough that no one could hear them, for the moment. Sam had  
popped open his laptop.

"You brought a computer into a church?" Bethany hissed.

"With all the time on the road I didn't get the chance to research like I wanted," he  
whispered back.

Dean leaned over. "What, does the church have wireless? God paying for the internet  
now?"

Sam opened his mouth to reply, then let out a brief, "Huh. Apparently the rectory does  
and none of the priests know how to secure a wireless network."

Bethany looked over, her mind tuning out the specifics of the mass. It faded to a soothing  
lilt in the background, familiarity she could sink herself into. "What are you looking for?"

"Catholic Encyclopedia," he pointed out. "I'm curious as to why this date is so important,  
why the ceremony stood out in my vision. Why do the demons want to wait until her First  
Communion?"

"And not when she was six months old," Dean said. He shared a look with Sam.  
"Anything in there about yellow-eyed demons?"

"You think I haven't looked?" Sam snapped, clicking through the entry and skimming  
past the long blocks of text. Bethany tried to follow along, but honestly she didn't know  
what he was looking for.

"What's that thing about 'years of discretion'?" Dean poked the screen, Sam batted his  
hand away.

"It means a kid has to be aware of how important this is. It's like how they can't try a  
child under seven for murder, they don't know the difference between right and  
wrong…"

Bethany leaned forward, a thought suddenly occurring to her. "Kind of like Christ in the  
temple when he was a child…"

"Wait, where's Christy?" Dean interrupted.

Bethany whirled around, where only moments before he daughter had been tucked into  
her side; there was nothing but empty pew. She stood and looked around frantically,  
terror flooding her throat. She had completely lost track of where they were in the mass;  
now people were lining up to receive at the altar.

"There!" Sam pointed.

Christy had gone and joined the line. Of course, she had been looking forward to this  
moment for so long, she wouldn't let anything like being on the run from demons to stop  
her. Bethany pushed her way forward, needing to stop Christy from taking communion. If  
what Sam had suggested was true…"Christy!" she screamed, ignoring the dirty looks  
everyone was giving her. But there were too many people and she couldn't get close  
enough.

She couldn't stop her.

For a moment, it seemed like time stopped, everything was moving so slowly. Bethany  
couldn't move, she was surrounded by strangers, all looking at her. She could see  
perfectly, Christy opening her mouth and saying a soft "amen."

Then the stained glass windows began to shatter. The first row blew inward first, then the  
second, exploding and covering the churchgoers with glass. They started screaming and  
running.

"I got her!" Dean had had more luck in moving ahead through the crowd and had slung  
Christy in his arms.

"Let's move," Sam grabbed her arm and pulled her back, running with the people trying  
to escape the church.

"Sam!" Dean called. He was still behind them.

Bethany turned and realized people were trying to stop Dean, pulling at him, keeping him  
from leaving the church. Demons, she guessed. When she looked back at Sam, he had  
pulled a gun out of his pants and had shot into the crowd.

So much for not wanting a shootout in the church.

"Go," Sam pushed her ahead, keeping them both moving in the flow of traffic.

They emerged from the church, erupting from the doors with such force Bethany nearly  
fell down the stairs. "Christy!"

But Dean was right behind them, Christy still in his arms. Sam's shots had scattered the  
demons for now. "In the car!"

It turned out to be a good thing that Dean had parked illegally in front of the church.  
Bethany pulled open one of the back doors when she got an idea. She moved to the front  
of the car.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked. He was already half into the passenger's seat.

"Blessing the car," she made the sign of the cross with a quick flick of her hand. "Should  
give us some time."

Dean pushed Christy into the car and moved to the driver's side. Bethany dove into the  
car, grabbing her daughter. "Don't ever do that again! You know we're in danger!"

Dean peeled into traffic, the crowd parting from the car like the red sea did for Moses.  
Blessing the vehicle had obviously worked.

"Where to now?" he snapped out.

"Just drive," Sam breathed.

Bethany tucked Christy under her arm. She whispered, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," over and  
over again. What were they going to do?

***

Sam watched in shock as the possessed bodies parted for the Impala. Bethany had hit on  
a genius idea; it made him wonder why they hadn't blessed the car before now.

It was nothing like he had ever seen before. The demons had swept in, possessing the  
weak among the crowd, surrounding the car. They all stood and watched as Dean sped  
away.

He could hear Christy sniffling in the back seat. There was nothing he could say to make  
it any better. The last time they ran from a horde of demons it didn't end well at all. He  
wondered if he and Dean could protect Christy from what was coming.

"So, out of air freshener?" Bethany asked, almost hiding the hitch in her voice.

"Blessed iron rounds," Sam told her. "It won't stop them for long." He didn't tell her that  
only the demon inside kept the people he had hit moving.

Dean had made it back on the highway in record time, speeding away from the coast.  
"Either of you chuckleheads have any idea where we go now? Jersey, as usual, was a  
bust."

"Dean, I…" Sam gasped in pain, he was tumbling, lost in a vision…

They were skidding, sliding across the road, and then tumbling down a ravine. The  
Impala was on its side, its wheels spinning aimlessly, one of them flat. Dean slumped  
over the steering wheel, blood covering the windshield.

Sam jerked his head up. "Dean, pull over, they're going to shoot out the tires…" And  
we're all going to die, he left out. As he spoke, they could hear the wailing of a police  
siren behind them.

Dean didn't question, just slid the car to the side of the highway.

"We have to run," Sam said. The police car was getting closer.

"But the car is blessed," Bethany protested.

"Blessed won't help when they shoot out the windows," Dean shot back. "Sam, you take  
Bethany. I got the kid."

"Wait," Bethany protested as Dean took off into the woods with her daughter.

"It's better like this," Sam promised, pulling Bethany after him. They hadn't gotten more  
than 12 feet into the forest when he realized this was it, the place from his vision two  
days ago, where he saw Dean die. "No," he whispered. He didn't have time to think or  
act, he could hear the police approaching behind them.

He pulled Bethany behind an especially large tree, his back against it. Sam cocked his  
gun and dropped the safety. He still didn't know if they were ordinary police officers or  
demons.

That question was answered when a strangely pitched voice called out, "Come out little  
girl. We know you're in there."

Before Sam could stop her, Bethany threw herself around the tree. She shouted at the  
demon, "You demon bastard, you're not going to touch my daughter."

"Let me guess, over your dead body, right?" The demon laughed. "I was hoping for  
something a little less cliché."

Sam used the distraction to circle around behind the demon, keeping one ear on the  
conversation.

"I won't let you kill her," Bethany snapped.

The demon laughed. Sam had gotten behind the thing at this point, but he held his shot,  
he needed to hear how this played out.

"We don't want to kill her. If he wanted her dead, she'd have been dead already."

"Then what the hell do you…" Bethany trailed off. "There's a reason you had to wait for  
her Communion…"

"Figured it out yet? He's going to corrupt her. Twist the only daughter into something  
unrecognizable. Too bad the rules kept us from taking her any younger. She had to know  
right from wrong before we started."

Sam took his shot. He'd heard all he needed to know and the demon crumpled to the  
ground.

"Dean!"

Sam and Bethany whirled at the sound of Christy's voice. "No!" Sam ran towards it,  
Bethany behind him.

They weren't alone in the woods; he could hear them now, more than the two cops who  
had entered before. They were facing an entire demon army, somehow. Sam nearly  
tripped over a log and caught himself in time to stumble into a clearing.

Dean was on the ground, just as he was in Sam's vision, head hanging twisted, blood  
smeared along the side of his face. Christy knelt over him, tears coming from her eyes.  
Above her stood the other cop. He turned when Bethany nearly tripped over Sam.

"Just in time." The demon raised his hand and threw both of them against trees. Sam felt  
pressure against his throat, he couldn't breathe. He struggled to get air in his lungs, but he  
was fading fast.

Christy screamed, "Leave my mom alone!"

Even in his struggles, Sam was aware of Bethany dropping to the ground, suddenly freed  
from the demon's hold.

"Go away!" Christy shouted now. "Go away and leave us alone!"

Sam gulped in air like it was going out of style as he slid to the ground. The demon's  
hand dropped and he lifted his head, a cloud of inky smoke releasing into the sky.

The sounds of others in the forest stopped.

He crouched, trying to gather his strength. Sam could feel himself fading. "Dean," he  
gasped out.

Christy placed her hand on Dean's chest, tears still falling from her eyes. Suddenly, Dean  
sat up, his eyes wide. He turned to Christy and smiled, wiping her cheeks gently.

Sam allowed the darkness to swallow him and passed out.

***

(Epilogue)

Dean leaned against the stone wall of the courtyard, watching as Christy ran with the  
other little girls all dressed in matching plaid skirts and sweaters. She seemed happy,  
none of the darkness of the last weekend had touched her spirit. Bethany was over talking  
with one of the nuns, and the worry was gone from her eyes too.

Sam came over and leaned next to him, content to watch. He had been the one, after all,  
to put it all together. After they had gotten back to the car, stunned at the sudden quiet,  
Sam had found the newspaper they had bought at the Quick Stop early that morning.

"Psychic Nun retreats to cloister." The headline had read. Bethany took the paper.  
"That's what Jay was talking about…That's what we came here to find, it wasn't the  
church at all…"

Dean complained about having to drive another hour north, but only to get Sam to stop  
worrying. Sam kept looking at him like he was surprised Dean was still walking around.  
Demon hadn't hit him that hard.

They found the convent from the article, only it was one hell of a convent. Villa Walsh  
was an estate, bequeathed to the church by some guilty millionaire and nurtured over the  
years to host not only the nuns who lived there, but also a school for girls.

"And," Sam had said, "it's built on a huge Devil's Trap. The demons won't be able to  
come after her as long as she's here."

"So," Dean turned to look at his brother. "We done then?"

"Dean," Sam began, and Dean braced himself, he knew that tone of voice. "You were  
dead. You were dead and she …"

"Dude, hold on. I was unconscious. Not dead. Trust me, I remember dead." He turned  
away, not wanting to meet Sam's eyes. He had been knocked out early on, and hadn't  
heard the demon or how Christy had managed to send them all away. Dean shook his  
head, for some reason he had an image of a woman in his mind, with long dark curls and  
eyes he could get lost in.

"Do you think she could possibly be…?" Sam began; Dean could fill in the blanks.

"What, just cause she can cast out demons?" Dean snorted. "Nah."

Sam laughed. It was a bit shaky, but good. He didn't need Sam getting all serious on  
him. Not when the job was finally over.

Bethany finally approached them. She had her hands in the pockets of her coat and she  
squinted against the wind. "I guess this is it. Thank you both, for everything."

"It's just too bad you guys are stuck in Jersey now," Dean told her. "Wish we could have  
done something about that."

Bethany threw back her head and laughed. "That's the least of my troubles right now. I  
have to call my family and cancel the missing person's report. Oh, and there's the matter  
of my job." She looked over to where Christy was playing. "But I wouldn't change a  
thing. She's a special girl, and she's got work to do."

"Have her call us in about 20 years."

"We could use the help," Sam agreed.

end


End file.
